


You're Not A Monster

by AvengersFicWriter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersFicWriter/pseuds/AvengersFicWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place during 'Age of Ultron,' the bedroom scene is instead with Tony and Natasha. The two are sharing a room this time around, with Steve and Bruce in another room. Tony and Natasha see each other's more vulnerable sides. Near the end of this fic, Steve and Bruce have a nice moment as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I have only seen 'Avengers: Age of Ultron' once all the way through, so these two scenes might be out of order, in terms of keeping up with the movie's order of sequences. Doesn't matter anyway, since these are my rewrites. Speaking of which, it seems I can't stop doing AoU scene-rewrite fics...

Tony was drying himself off after his short shower. He had just slipped on some jeans when he remembered other people may need the bathroom. Gathering his clothes and towel, he stepped out into the connected bedroom. He came to an immediate halt when he saw Natasha sitting at the end of the bed. She was in a white T-shirt and black leggings, inspecting her fingernails. Tony subconsciously draped his towel over his shoulders, having it cover up part of his scar from the arc reactor removal surgery.

He cleared his throat. “Thought you were rooming with Rogers.”

Natasha shrugged one shoulder. “Steve said he wanted to bunk with Banner, make sure he’s okay.” She continued looking at her nails with a bored expression. “Which is fine by me. ‘Cause apparently, when you and Banner are left alone with each other, evil robots happen.”

Tony slacked his jaw and nodded. “Yeah. I really screwed up this time.”

“Oh, ya think?” She finally lifted her head to look at him. The visible part of his scar caught her eye.

He stepped further into the bedroom, moving to the wall opposite of the door. “What do you want me to say, huh? I take full responsibility. Isn’t that enough?” But he knew the answer. He got them in this mess, and the rest of the world is paying for it. Taking responsibility wouldn’t reverse his actions.

Natasha slowly stood up. Her gaze moved from his chest to his eyes. “You saw something. Something so bad, it made you create Ultron without thinking clearly.”

Tony almost forgot how observant and perceptive Natasha could be. “The Maximoff girl...She showed me…” He did not bother finishing his sentence. He couldn’t even discuss his vision without slipping into his daze, close to reliving what he saw.

Noticing this, Natasha chewed on the inside of her cheek. If Tony lost himself now, who knows when he’ll come back? She had to think fast to pull him out of this fog and back to reality.

“The Red Room was a horrible place, where the weak didn’t survive. We Black Widows were ruthless.”

Her soft voice made Tony blink and look at her. Wanda Maximoff showed each Avenger - excluding Clint - their greatest fears. He couldn’t imagine what Natasha saw, or why she was willing to tell _him_ , of all people. But he nodded for her to continue.

“Not only did the students do unspeakable things to innocent people, but horrible things were done to us, too.” She crossed her arms and stared at the floor, appearing ashamed of what she was about to say next. “Each Black Widow was sterilized. Bearing children was a sign of weakness. A Black Widow can’t...couldn’t be weak.” A harsh laugh escaped her lips. “Bruce isn’t the only monster on the team.”

Tony barely realized that the towel slipped from his shoulder and fell to his feet. His eyebrows were knit together, forming a crease. “I’m sorry, but the Natasha Romanoff I know doesn’t see sterility as a reason for being a monster.”

Natasha’s green eyes shot up from the floor and gave a cold glare that made Tony shiver. “The Natasha Romanoff you know isn’t even Natasha Romanoff.” All of her identities were exposed and long gone. After going through her Scarlet Witch nightmare, she wasn’t sure if she even knew her real self.

“Still, I can see how all the killing and brainwashing or whatever would make you think that you’re a monster. That I get.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But guess what? You’re _not_ a monster, and you know why?” Tony watched her turn her body to face him. She looked ready to fight him, but let him continue. “Because whoever you were before the Avengers, before SHIELD, you’re not that person anymore. You’ve got a grey morality vibe about you, but you care about the Average Joe. That’s why you’re here. I’m pretty sure that’s why we’re all here.”

She blinked twice, letting her mask slip to reveal a vulnerable and scared woman. She was more afraid of herself than whatever scheme Ultron was cooking up. Not only did one of her teammates call her a hero, but she was hearing this from _Tony Stark_. The same Tony Stark who wouldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. Or so she thought.

Her face went neutral again, stuffing any and all emotions deep down. “For someone so smart, you make the biggest mistakes.”

He groaned. “How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?” It was then that Tony caught where Natasha was looking. Her attention had fallen back to his chest - his scar.

He couldn’t blame her for being distracted; it wasn’t a pretty sight. In the center of his chest, scar tissue was formed in a long vertical line. Tiny, reddish veins lined the perimeter of the tender skin, clustering in the center of his chest. Though it has been less than three years, the scar still looked fresh and painful. It was still nothing compared to the state of his healing rib cage.

Natasha slowly reached her hand out, eyes flickering to his for silent permission. Tony gave a hesitant nod. Her focus returned to his chest, and she used her index finger to gently trace the shape. With a curious tilt of her head, she examined the surrounding veins, and the almost unnoticeable dip in the center of his chest. When her finger slid down to the middle of the long scar, she pressed a bit too firmly. Tony grabbed her wrist tightly. He didn’t say anything, but she knew he wanted her to stop.

She pressed her lips together, addressing him while looking at the scar. “Apologies and excuses won’t fix anything this late in the game.”

Tony frowned and let go of her small wrist. He felt too exposed, and not just because he was shirtless. He folded his arms over his chest, almost like he was hugging himself. The pile of clothes he was carrying was laid in front of the bathroom entrance. He didn’t remember dropping them.

Natasha picked the clothes up and walked over to him. “Looks like neither of us will be going to the beach any time soon.” She smirked upon seeing his confused expression.

Tossing the clothes on the bed, she grabbed Tony’s hand and guided it beneath her shirt. At first, he didn’t feel anything significant, then his fingers skimmed over an oval-shaped wound to the left of her stomach. She gave him a knowing glance, but he shook his head.

“It’s not the same,” he said in a hushed, broken tone. He removed his hand and walked to the bed, choosing to ignore how quickly the small smile disappeared from her face.

Late that night, everyone was in their chosen rooms, desperately trying to sleep. Steve was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“These beds are a lot smaller than they look,” he mumbled, turning his head to see if Bruce would respond. He didn’t, so he tried again. “You okay?”

“No worse than usual.” Bruce was lying on his side, his back to his temporary roommate. He was curled up in a ball, wanting to be as small as possible. “I can’t stay.”

“None of us are going to stay. Clint’s just letting us crash here to recharge and come up with a plan.”

“You know what I mean….” Bruce sighed. “Nobody’s safe around me. I’m too dangerous.”

Steve let his words sink in. “Technically, the Hulk is dangerous - “

“What difference does it make?!” Bruce heard sushing coming from the room next door. He rolled his eyes, knowing it was Tony.

“Makes a big difference to me,” Steve whispered. He no longer saw Bruce as a ticking time bomb, like he did a few short years ago. He could see the man within the monster, as well as the monster hidden within the man.

Bruce pushed the blankets back and sat up, planting his feet on the ground. “Where in the world can I go where I won’t be a threat?” The question was rhetorical, since he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with any answer.

Steve sat up in bed, watching as Bruce buried his face in his hands. Hesitating for just a second, he crawled over to his teammate and wrapped his strong arms around his shoulders. He rested his chin on top of his curly hair.

While Steve thought he was helping, Bruce froze in his hold. “What - what are you doing?”

“You seemed like you needed a hug.”

Bruce sat there, reluctantly accepting the uncomfortable situation he was in. He was just getting used to it when Steve pulled them both back down onto the bed. Steve quietly snickered as Bruce flailed around. He figured out that Steve’s grasp would only get tighter the more he struggled, so he gave up. The two remained in this position for a while, until Steve’s arms flopped down. Surprisingly, Bruce didn’t flee. Instead, he rolled off so he would be lying next to Steve, pressed up against his side.

Bruce was the first to break the silence. “Are _you_ okay?”

Steve hadn’t expected the question. No, he was not at all okay. What the Scarlet Witch had shown him shook him to the core. Rather than admitting this, he simply said in a dismal tone, “No worse than usual.”

Bruce held back another sigh. He awkwardly put his arm around Steve’s waist. Steve was grateful that Bruce closed his eyes soon after, because he could feel himself blush.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this around 2 AM, and it's not anything special, but sorry if there are any grammar or spelling errors!


End file.
